Posted in Art, Poetry


from the bedroom window

missing a place
some tell
doesn’t exist

a random emotion
perhaps chance
though i digress

you dig deeper
your lips heap dirt
upon my head

blocks the sun
from rolling red
across my face

this morning
i vanish
without a trace.

3 thoughts on “vanished

  1. We wear many faces and cloaks during each day as writers, let the sun shine and a child giggle and there’s another poem, a storm breaks and whoops! there’s another one, evening falls and emotions swell and out comes the pen once more. We all see things differently, interpret differently, but to me this is my ‘vanish without trace’. Thanks for the inspiration πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚


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